


I Will Steal You Back

by teenageinvincibility



Category: Phlochte - Fandom, Swimming RPF
Genre: Charlotte Grand Prix, M/M, Mesa Grand Prix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:50:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1685648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenageinvincibility/pseuds/teenageinvincibility
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Addiction is tricky. For example: a man who quit smoking for 11 years spent 15 seconds in an elevator with a man smoking a cigarette. He gave in. What I’m trying to say is I think I love you again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Steal You Back

**Author's Note:**

> How slowly we built the walls  
> In years they pile on  
> I will steal you back  
> Funny how the smallest lie  
> Might live a million times  
> I will steal you back

Many events led up to Michael Phelps standing outside of Ryan Lochte’s apartment complex in Charlotte, none of which he was particularly proud of. 

The first event would have to be when he broke up with Ryan the day before they left London. Michael was on top of the world: he was planning outrageous parties, exotic vacations, and had a list of junk food he was going to purchase on his way back to his town house in Maryland.   
Ryan? Ryan was trying to schedule visits for Michael so they could go shopping for a new house. He was planning the rest of their lives. For the first time in his 28 years, Michael was just trying to live in the moment and act his age.   
Breaking up with Ryan had been a heat-of-the-moment decision. With the whirlwind going on around him, Michael had felt like he was losing control. Breaking up with Ryan felt like him gaining some sort of handle back on his life. Granted, it was something he’d regretted as the words were coming out of his mouth, but he knew he couldn’t take them back. What was done was done.  
“We don’t want the same things,” he’d lied. Of course he wanted a house and life with Ryan. He just didn’t want to plan them right at that very minute. He’d been trying so hard to sort things out in his head that they just wouldn’t come out of his mouth in the right order. 

The second event had to be when Conor moved in with him. Conor had been friends with Ryan long before he’d been friends with Michael. Ryan had introduced the two of them after Conor mad the National team.   
Michael remembered the phone calls after Ryan and Conor had become friends. He’d disliked Conor back then. After all, what was there to like about some young, good-looking guy who was a great swimmer and trained with your boyfriend? Nothing.   
Of course, Michael had felt like a complete asshole when he met Conor, found out he wasn’t in the least bit gay, and was actually one of the most genuine guys Michael had ever come in contact with.   
Conor and Michael avoided the topic for the first few weeks that they lived together. They both pretended Conor hadn’t crossed some sort of line and that there wasn’t that awkward you-broke-up-with-my-best-friend-and-now-we’re-best-friends-and-roommates-and-training-parners tension in the air.   
But one day Conor walked into Michael’s room right after he’d stumbled across one of the many CDs Ryan had given him, complete with custom artwork. Michael had been sitting on the edge of his bed, turning the CD over and over in his hands. Yeah, he’d gotten a little emotional. He knew how much he fucked up with Ryan.   
Conor sat down next to him and threw an arm around his shoulders. “He was pretty messed up about it for a while.”   
“Not helping,” Michael said, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.   
“I’m just saying, man,” Conor said. “Ry really loved you.”  
It was the past tense of the verb that made the knot in Michael’s stomach tighten. 

The third event was when Michael saw Ryan at the Mesa Grand Prix. He walked onto the deck for a quick interview before practice and there he was. The sun literally gleamed off of his exposed freckled skin, creating a sort of halo effect. Michael couldn’t help but stare as Ryan threw his head back, hand coming up to touch his chest as it always did when he laughed. Even from the distance - or because he knew Ryan so well - Michael could see the crinkle in his eye. He was transfixed. Ryan was beautiful.  
“Mr. Phelps?” the thin woman in Under Armour asked tentatively.   
But Michael couldn’t pay attention to her, because Ryan had just noticed him, too. Michael’s heart raced and his palms started to sweat. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears as he forgot how to breathe. Were Ryan’s eyes always that blue?   
Ryan’ bottom lip disappeared between his teeth and he gave Michael a slight nod of recognition before turning back to Conor and Nathan as if there had been no interruption. As if his skin wasn’t prickling where he knew Michael’s eyes were on him.   
“Mr. Phelps,” the woman tried again. “What does it mean to be able to share the pool with Ryan Lochte again?”

The fourth event was when he cornered Ryan in the locker room after they swam the 100 fly. They were the last two left in there, so Michael walked right up to Ryan as the older man closed his locker and hitched his backpack onto his shoulder.  
“Hey,” Michael said, stopping a little over a foot away. Even from here, he could feel the heat that Ryan radiated.   
“Hey, Mike,” Ryan said carefully.   
Michael took a deep breath. “Look, about London - “  
“It’s whatever,” Ryan said, his confidence from before seeming to fade away. “It’s been two years, yeah? I’ve had time to adjust.”  
“Still, I never apologized. Or explained myself.”  
“You don’t have to,” Ryan shrugged, walking around Michael. “We’ve both moved on. I’m happy, if that’s what you’re worried about. You didn’t ruin my life, just a few months of it. We’re good, dude.”  
It took Ryan walking away for Michael to have the courage to say what he’d been wanting to for two years. “I’m really sorry, Ryan. I… I miss you.”  
Ryan searched Michael’s eyes. “I wanted to hear that in 2012, man. I mean it when I say I’m over it.”

The fifth event was when Michael found out Ryan wouldn’t be swimming in the Charlotte Grand Prix. Ever since Mesa, Ryan was all he’d been able to think about. He’d sent Ryan a few text messages that went unanswered, which he’d expected.   
For the last month, Michael had been planning out exactly what he’d say to Ryan when he saw him again, and now that Ryan wasn’t swimming, it wasn’t guaranteed that their schedules would line up in Charlotte.  
So Michael did the only logical thing he could think of and bought a plane ticket. 

Michael hadn’t thought about what he’d do once he got to Charlotte. Now, standing outside of Ryan’s apartment, he realized he had no way of getting inside. He didn’t even know Ryan’s training schedule.   
Michael cursed himself for being so stupid. He’d always been able to plan every single aspect of his life - except for Ryan. Which is why Michael had fallen in love with him in the first place. It was exhilarating to have some sort of mystery and surprise in his life, and Ryan was the perfect fit for that.   
Just as he was dialing a cab to come pick him back up, the front door opened and none other than Ryan Lochte walked out into the parking lot. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Mike.  
“What are you doing here?” he asked.   
“This is embarrassing,” Michael told the sky.  
“The meet is in two weeks, in case Bob forgot to write that down on your goal sheet.”  
“I came here for you,” Michael said. Might as well get it all off his chest since the day couldn’t get any more embarrassing for him. Maybe this is one of those spontaneous things that Ryan would find romantic and totally out of character.   
“Oh yeah?” Ryan asked, squinting into the sun.   
“Yeah,” Michael said, walking towards him to close the gap. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about since Mesa.”  
“You were all I thought about for months after London while you hooked up with random girls in various tropical places. You were all I thought about when I had to tell the realtors that I wasn’t interested in the houses anymore. You were all I thought about when - “  
“I get it,” Michael whispered, unable to hear anymore as the knot in his stomach got so tight he was afraid it would snap.  
“Good,” Ryan said. “What you don’t get, Mike, is that I’m happy now. Without you. It took a while, but I finally got here, and I don’t think I’m too willing to go back to that feeling I was stuck with after you broke the fuck up with me for no fucking reason the night before we left London to live the lives we’d planned for a fucking year.”  
“Ryan, I’m so sorry,” Michael’s voice broke. The knot had snapped. Michael was surprised he was still on his feet.  
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, MP,” Ryan mumbled, toeing the ground. “I’m gonna be late for practice.”  
Michael watched as Ryan walked around him to get to his car. He couldn’t watch Ryan walk away from him again.  
“I will steal you back,” Michael promised.   
Ryan met his eyes for a few moments before getting in his car and driving away.

**Author's Note:**

> I read this quote somewhere a while ago and wanted to do something with it. This isn't exactly what I had in mind, but I like the way it turned out. Also, credit to Jimmy Eat World for the lyrics.


End file.
